A Cold Locket
by Miss C Riddle
Summary: PWP. HP/LV/TMR. When Ron storms off, Harry didn't expect the locket to open, nor did he expect the consequences that came with it.
1. Chapter 1

**A Cold Locket**

He ripped the locket from Ron's neck angrily, seething at the behaviour of his best friend.

"Fine! Go then! Go back home to mummy! You won't be missed here!" Harry yelled, watching with satisfaction as Hermione chose to stay, while Ron was rejected.

He didn't like Hermione in _**that **_way, but still, it felt good to see Ron be rejected by the girl who he loved, especially since Harry was pissed off at him.

Harry heard Hermione calling for Ron as she hesitated then ran after him, and put the locket on, noting the chill of it as he went and locked himself in the bathroom of their magically-enhanced tent.

He gripped the sink, furiously searching his reflection in the mirror for something he couldn't find.

It had been that way for days, an itch, a feeling that something was happening to him, but he couldn't figure out what… it was frustrating for him.

As he stared at his mother's eyes, avada kedavra green eyes, the locket grew colder, forcing him to acknowledge it as it clung to his skin, digging deeper and growing tighter around his throat.

Harry panicked, clawing at the chain, trying to get the necklace off, he briefly considered calling Hermione for help, but then remembered that she was distraught outside and that there was a silencing charm on the tent.

The lack of oxygen made him weak and he could barely pull at the chain any more, his vision began to turn dark, and Harry slumped on the floor of the shower, having stumbled there in his struggle.

Then it stopped.

Harry gasped and took in as much oxygen as his lungs would allow at one time, he stayed on the floor panting for a while, coughing as his throat burned, he could almost feel the locket still pressing down… but when he lifted his hand to feel the damage done to his throat, it wasn't there.

That was when a pale hand entered his vision.

Harry looked up, eyes wide, and was in shock at seeing an adult Tom Riddle, standing there in the clothes he had been wearing in a long forgotten memory of tea with Hepzibah Smith, smiling as he offered to help Harry up.

When Harry didn't take the offered hand though, Tom grabbed his arm and pulled him up gently himself.

"So, Harry Potter, what distresses you so much that you managed to summon me out of my locket?" Tom asked in an eloquent voice, still holding Harry's arm.

"I… you… how-?" Harry stuttered out, eyes wide and shocked.

Tom smiled indulgently at him, and reached out his other hand to caress Harry's face, pulling the boy towards him.

"I am here because you made it so, nothing but another could summon one." He stated, suddenly letting Harry go, "What I want to know is how you did it and why."

Mind still spinning from confusion, Harry searched his scrambled mind for an answer, his rage and the itch mostly forgotten in favour of the dark wizard waiting for an answer.

"I – well, I was thinking about… I can't remember, Ron has just left, I was mad, I felt something as I was looking into the mirror, and the locket kind-of attacked me and now you're here! I'm so confused…" Harry muttered, seemingly talking to himself rather than to Tom.

"My dear Harry, I have seen your heart… and I know that it will be mine." Tom whispered to him, eyes intense as Harry looked at him in sudden alarm.

"What? MY heart… why would you want that? Hey, stop-!" Harry questioned, but was distracted as Tom's cold hands pulled him closer.

Harry stopped breathing and looked up at Tom, his mind near shattered after first losing his friend, and now the situation with the horcrux… the strain of the recent times were getting to him.

Tom simply smiled at the distressed boy, and a short moment later, had Harry's wand from his pocket, without the boy noticing, of course.

He stunned Harry and then picked him up, it was time to go and see a certain dark lord.

* * *

><p>Typically, it was raining as Tom appeared in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor.<p>

He strode forwards, Harry nestled in his arms, a bag of the boy's things on top of the boy – he didn't think that Harry would appreciate it if he had left his stuff in the tent – after all, he had set it alight before leaving, the Granger girl could go find the Weasley boy and be with him, Tom didn't really care what happened to them.

He glanced down at the unconscious boy, for really, he was only seventeen, he was of age in the wizarding and had seen hardships, but Tom had looked into his eyes and seen a lost child there – Alongside that though, while in locket form, Tom had seen Harry's fears and his… _**desires**_.

And what a perverted lad Harry was, Tom smirked at the thought of his Harry (and the boy **would** be his soon enough) pleasuring himself while wearing the locket, unaware that the pleasure he was feeling was not entirely his own, nor some of his actions – an occasional nail flicking over his slit, his hand rubbing at his member with more experience than Harry had…

Harry had loved it, despite his ignorance of the locket that pulsed coldly against his chests he came, crying out loudly as the silencing charm kept his moans within the hearing of Harry and Tom only – And so, without Harry realising it, his fantasies began to become based on dark eyes staring intensely at him as a strong hand held his hips down – the other pumping him into oblivion. It was rather ingenious, slipping the fantasies into Harry's mind while he was unaware, because his appearance and everything that Tom had done while they were in the bathroom, until Harry had been stunned, only made Harry remember his fantasies, thus his confusion and incoherency – aside from the weasel boy leaving him.

Tom passed through the gates with Harry as if they were made from smoke, and then sent a variant of the dark mark into the sky to let the Dark Lord know that a horcrux had arrived.

In a few seconds, the Dark Lord, in all his serpentine glory stood before him, some death eaters ran out of the manor towards them, curious, but the dark lord shut them back inside with a nonchalant wave of his wand.

They stared at each other, heads tilting at the same time as they examined one another.

Voldemort was very pale, was the first thing that Tom noted, the second was the fact that his head might be bald, but there were odd patterns over it, barely noticeable – that were like scales – they seemed more flesh-like though.

The Dark Lord's eyes were crimson, and his pupils were like a snake's, the man wore dark robes that covered the rest of him bar his hands and feet, which were slender.

The man's fingers were long and slender, like Tom's but his nails were more creature-like, they were sharp, sharp enough to leave deep cuts on someone if he so wished.

Oddly, the Dark Lord wasn't bothered by the rain, but then again, neither was Tom, the man simply let the drops run down his scalp and his face, down the part of his neck that showed, and then underneath his robes – Tom smirked at the thought and wondered if the man was still desirable among the death eaters as he was.

Voldemort, it seemed, had been thinking a similar thought as he watched Tom's exposed neck with an indecipherable look, then the man seemed to finally take note of Harry and his face broke into a familiar smirk.

The Dark Lord offered his horcrux his hand and soon, there was no one standing by the gates, they had apparated to the Dark Lord's quarters.

* * *

><p>"So, my Locket, tell me how you came to be awake." Voldemort said as Tom placed Harry on a nearby sofa.<p>

"It would seem, Voldemort, that young Harry here grew a bit… attached to me, and then got into a fight with his friend, releasing a bit of accidental magic that was just enough to wake me up." Tom explained as he sat down and cast both drying and cleaning charms on himself and Harry.

"Really? How did the boy become attached to you? Shouldn't he know better by now, I would assume that Dumbledore would have told him all about the danger of anything associated with us?" Voldemort questioned as he summoned a bottle of wine and three glasses.

"He knows the dangers all right, I believe he came into contact with the Diary in his second year,, the memory I plucked from his head was most unpleasant, Salazar's basilisk died in the process. As for how he became attached, let's just say that Gryffindor's have no control with their emotions or desires, they are easy to manipulate." Tom answered, accepting a glass.

Voldemort raised the skin where his eyebrows would have been, silently asking for elaboration.

"I could give you a memory if you'd like? Or… what would legilimency be like between a horcrux and the original soul piece?" Tom wondered, setting his glass down on the table in front of him, looking around at the Slytherin themed décor around – browns, green and silvers could be seen in his quick assessment.

"Only one way to find out."

Voldemort walked over and straddled Tom where he sat, to stop him from moving, should the experience prove to be painful enough for his horcrux to move enough for them to lose contact.

Voldemort delved into his mind with a surprising ease, passing through the shields as if they were his own (which they were, in a convoluted way), there was a startling difference though, inside Tom's mind it was like ice, whereas the inside of Voldemort's mind, there was always a defiant dark fire burning.

After a second or two he moved to find the memories, he pulled them up, one by one and watched them.

* * *

><p>A half hour later found Voldemort just finishing with the memory of when Tom had emerged from the locket, as it drew to a close, Voldemort left Tom's mind and they both instantly returned to reality…<p>

There was a brief moment as they looked at each other in surprised, and then they chuckled, after watching Harry touch himself several times inside Tom's mind, knowing what was really happening as well, the two of them had gotten aroused.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at the bulge they both sported in question, Tom shrugged.

Then very slowly, with a smirk on both their faces, they curiously rubbed against each other, it was enough of a spark to set them off, and for that brief moment, Tom allowed Voldemort to pin him roughly against the chair as they let themselves indulge in each other – Two part of the same person, no one else would know… no one but…

"H- Hermione…? What time is-" Harry yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

Tom and Voldemort panted for a second, eyes darkened by lust, before Voldemort turned around and cast a spell in Harry's direction.

"_Obscuro!" _He whispered, and a dark mist quickly shot into Harry's eyes, making him blind for the moment.

"_Silencio!"_ Tom cast briefly, looking back up at Voldemort.

"We have a choice now, Voldemort; we can continue this with or without Harry, what do you say – seduce him to the dark side?" Tom asked; his eyes half-lidded, and his voice also affected by the lust of the moment.

"I say we grab the boy and take him to the bedroom with us." Voldemort demanded, his voice but a hissing whisper, as if speaking too loudly would ruin the atmosphere.

Voldemort stood, and Tom followed, his body managing to stay pressed against Voldemort as he stood – He grinned sexily and walked over to Harry, who seemed to be trying not to panic in his deaf and blind state.

Tom caressed the boy's face with his cold hand and grinned more at the sharp intake of breath this gained him, he grabbed the boy's hands and pulled him to his feet, straight flush against Tom's chest.

All of Tom seemed to radiate with a cold power, Harry, remembering the coldness against his chest from the times he had touched himself, blushed, wishing he could see, or at least hear something.

Then Voldemort stepped behind Harry and pressed himself fully against his back, surprisingly being the opposite of Tom, he radiated heat and it took Harry a second to realise that two bulges were pressing against him, both hot and hard.

His blushing reached new levels as Voldemort apparated them into his bedroom.

* * *

><p>Harry was lying on his back, trembling as two sets of hands caressed him.<p>

He was sure that his shirt was lying somewhere in the room and he took comfort in knowing his pants had yet to be removed, and that these people hadn't hurt him yet.

After all, they wouldn't be… touching him if they meant him harm right?

A mouth closed in over one of his nipples and nipped at it, teasing it into a pebble, the touch was cold, so he knew it was the one who had approached him first – He tried to locate the other and noticed the hot touch trailing along his chest, up towards his neck.

Suddenly a mouth was at his neck, a tongue trailing over it to find his sensitive spots, licking at them as if there were some sweet substance liberally coated there, the man bit down. Hard. And Harry felt a moan vibrate through his throat.

"Please… please, let me hear you at least, I have to- hear, or see something, anything, please!" Harry began to beg, not sure if he was saying the right thing or not, being unused to the situation but tried nonetheless.

They must have heard him loud and clear because a second later he became aware of the noise in the room – though it was quiet.

Every move, rustle, and breath taken he could hear, now he just needed to get them to speak to he could identify them.

"W-who are- ah! You?" Harry asked as the two contrasting touches stoked a fire in his loins, he could feel himself hard for them, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to lose his virginity to two people he (possibly) didn't know.

"Harry, I'm insulted, you don't know my touch by now?" Voldemort murmured, his hand stroking Harry's thigh through his jeans.

"And me Harry, after all those… _cold…_ nights when you where alone…" Tom said; smirking as he lightly brushed his fingers over Harry's abdomen.

"I- What? I haven't – spent… any night – anyone – ever." He gasped in response, the voices ringing a bell but not giving him an answer just yet.

The one with cold hands moved up towards Harry until he was a hair's width away from his lips.

"I beg to differ Harry. Remember this?" Tom whispered, before taking the locket out from his pocket and pressing it against the boy's heart.

All at once, his fantasies flashed into his mind: dark hair, eyes wild in lust, pale skin, Tom Riddle's face staring at him as the man took his cock into his mouth…

Harry struggled, but the man pinned him down with his icy body, Voldemort sat to watch their encounter at the edge of the bed.

"But that means you're Tom! Tom Riddle! You're Voldemort's horcrux!" Harry shouted, still struggling.

"Now, calm down Harry, you know that you shouldn't push away what you want…" Tom said gently, but when Harry refused to listen, he scowled, held both of Harry's wrists in one hand and used the other to abruptly grab Harry, literally, by the balls.

Harry stilled immediately, his eyes showing his pleasure and shock, despite the fact that he couldn't see – Tom smirked at the sight.

"Good boy…" Tom murmured, before swooping down for the first time to claim Harry's lips.

After a few tense seconds, Tom felt the boy relax into his touch, and wrapped his fingers around Harry's erection as a reward, slowly rubbing him into a further state of arousal.

Tom deepened the kiss, appreciating Harry's participation, and swallowed the boy's moan as his fingers picked up pace, rubbing the boy faster.

They were both short on breath, and by Harry's frantic movements, he could guess that the boy was nearing completion, not lasting long due to his lack of experience.

He moved to kiss and nip at Harry's neck, wondering slightly at when Voldemort was going to join them again.

He turned his head slightly and found himself looking straight into Voldemort's eyes as the man had moved to a chair next to the bed, watching them in apparent fascination – one of his hands hidden under his robes as he touched himself.

The lust in the red eyes made Tom feel like he should give the man a show of sorts and smirked into Harry's neck.

He pulled his hand away just before Harry was about to come and lowered himself down until he was eye-level with the zip on Harry's jeans.

The button was already undone, so, not looking away from Voldemort's eyes, he pulled down the zip with his teeth and pulled them off of Harry.

The boy was obviously nervous as he was slightly reluctant to spread himself, but allowed it in his aroused state, Tom nestled himself between Harry's legs and licked the tip of his cock – Harry drew in a sharp breath.

"Oh dear Merlin, you're not – ah! Fuck! You are…" Harry protested slightly, but then Tom began to take Harry into his mouth, inch by inch, until the tip of the boy's cock was sitting at the back of his throat.

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting Harry become frustrated by the lack of action, before he winked at Voldemort and sucked hard at the cock in his mouth.

Harry came instantly, moaning loudly as Tom let the spunk fill his mouth, and then he moved quickly over to Voldemort and pressed his mouth to the Dark Lord's.

The man hummed, pleased at the action and opened his mouth expectantly – they shared Harry's release, eagerly kissing – both trying to outdo the other.

Voldemort won the battle of tongues in the end and stood, immediately pushing Tom back onto the bed.

He cast a quick spell to remove Tom's clothes, but kept his own robes on – Tom frowned briefly but let it go, allowing Voldemort to ravish him in a rather similar manner as they had been doing to Harry a while ago.

It wasn't too long before the third one spoke up again, interrupting them as he had before.

"Um… Tom, if you are the one with the cold hands… who is the other person…?" He said sluggishly, reaching for a source of heat blindly, wanting to curl up.

The two laughed briefly, before Voldemort spoke up, pulling Harry over to them.

"Why… It's me of course, Harry." Voldemort whispered, finally removing the spell on Harry's eyes.

Harry took a few seconds to adjust to seeing again, but when he saw Voldemort, pinning a very naked Tom Riddle, both of whom were lusty and looking at him with a similar gaze – His eyes widened and he backed away, speechless.

Voldemort rolled his eyes at the boy's dramatics as Harry fell off of the bed, then conjured up a smaller bed, levitated the boy to it and sent him into a forced sleep.

He turned back to Tom who was moving his hand steadily down his chest suggestively, Voldemort grabbed Tom's hand as if he were a child trying to steal a cookie from a jar, then smirked and pressed his lips back to Tom's.

"Now, where was I…"

* * *

><p><strong>Yes. I actually might have written a pwp that is half decent - what do you guys think? XD<strong>

**It was meant to be more threesome-y but Tom and Voldie decided they were more interested in each other than in Harry, I couldn't stop them - sorry about that :P**

**Oh! Readers of all my other fics, please don't shoot, time has flown, OWL year is not good in terms of having time to write fanfiction (apart from the odd oneshot like this - but with this, I just couldn't resist :P) SO, I declared my fics temporarily on hold until the next holiday... which is february I think... I really am sorry, but I have to think of my grades - in this case, they come first (pun not intended).**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Surprise! I wrote a second part! Told you I would eventually, it only took a year or two to finally gather the motivation for it :P Consider this an early Christmas present from me. It's a bit fluffy and OOC for both Tom and Voldemort but I don't even care, I'm stressed out over College stuff and need some fluffy writing in my life. Therefore here you go. I've no idea if I'll write any more of Cold Locket after this, so this could be the end of this story _forever_. I need sleep.**

**Enjoy!**

**(Also beware that there's been a time skip and both of them feel feelings for each other oops ehehhe)**

* * *

><p>Tom lay stripped, naked, beneath Voldemort. He panted softly, the Dark Lord scraped his nails over his abdomen, creating light red marks to appear. Voldemort's other hand was curled around his cock, stroking him rhythmically as his nails created art upon Tom's chest.<p>

How had they ended up like this **again**? Tom groaned as the thought passed through his head, the other near torturing him with his slow pace. After the first time they'd had sex while Harry had slept on the spare bed, somehow they had just fallen into that pattern.

By day, they'd work on reinventing the Ministry of Magic, by night, they would find new ways to explore each other. The odd paradox that they were, the present and the past meeting in a lustful clash, with Harry being the one to deal with any negative effects. Poor pet.

Voldemort growled and slapped him, focusing his attention back onto him. The man shifted, letting go of Tom's cock and lifting his legs to expose Tom's hole, already lubricated and stretched from their last fuck. This was the second round of the evening.

He slipped in with ease, growling lowly in satisfaction as Tom clenched around him, his arms above his head. It was an odd arrangement, that Tom should be so submissive to the other, after all, they were the same person, they both had the most dominant and possessive streaks that each other had ever known. But with Voldemort being fifty years older, knowing life in a way Tom would never experience, it seemed natural for Tom to submit to him.

Despite his age, Voldemort certainly did not lack stamina or strength, his magical, artificial body lending him many advantages. Sometimes Tom wondered what had happened to change his older self's perception of beauty and vanity, but then his attention was drawn to the man's devilish tongue invading his mouth, and he realised that it hadn't changed that much – Voldemort still loved the way his younger self looked, but he was also confident as hell in his new form.

The Dark Lord grunted, sweat visible on his skin, as he thrust into Tom quickly, powerfully. Both of them felt pleasure rolling through them in waves, as strange as their coupling was. As strange as it seemed for the Dark Lord to have shed his robes and engage in the act.

Tom remembered when they had first lain together, and the man had refused to remove his robes, so suspicious and full of fire all at once, not trusting Tom enough to see his chest exposed in case he might betray him, try to kill him and usurp his position.

Tom never would. He enjoyed the other's presence too much.

After being locked in the locket for many years, the mere sensory experience with Voldemort was more than enough to have him addicted to the man. Harry was their pet, only joining them in bed on special occasions or when they felt particularly sadistic. It brought them satisfaction to know that the light's once-saviour was now only their servant. Barely more than a house-cat.

The boy slept most of the day, only waking when Tom or Voldemort returned to their chambers. He ate meals with them, was permitted to read from a selection of books pre-approved by the lords, and had to keep the chambers clean, but other than that or to deal with matters of hygiene, he remained simple. Sleeping.

As he was now.

"Hush, you might awaken him." The dark lord whispered hotly against Tom's ear as he thrust in sharply, hitting Tom's prostate, holding his hips in a harsh grip, not bothering to let up in the slightest.

Voldemort was always like that, giving teasing comments about his younger self's lack of control in comparison to him and proceeding to make tom completely lose his mind in pleasure. The man smirked as Tom growled at him, fighting the impulse to writhe as toe-curling feelings of pleasure spread through him.

Voldemort's hand was around Tom's cock again, not teasing this time, his hand moved with a fast purpose, thrusting into him at the same time. His eyes were dark and intense as he watched Tom's face.

"Come for me, Thomas." The Dark Lord purred, squeezing Tom's member and biting into the flesh of his neck to mark him as Tom's pleasure reached a crescendo.

The pleasure became too much to resist, his eyes rolled back into his head, his hands pulled hard at their restraints as he came. His head was thrown back, neck arched beautifully, Voldemort's tongue lapping at each dark blemish as the younger man shuddered, the Lord's claim over him standing out sharply against his pale skin.

Soon after, he knew that Voldemort had come too as hot wetness filled him and the other stilled, a muffled grunt leaving the other's mouth. They lay together after, Voldemort still above him, but completely relaxed.

The moment was almost gentle, their breathing and heartbeats slowing until they were in sync, only Harry's soft breathing in the other bed nearby interrupted their noise.

Eventually, Voldemort shifted, grabbing his wand and casting a cleaning charm over the two of them, then he sat beside the younger man, leaning against the headboard, his hand resting on top of the bedside table, nails tapping it softly as he thought about their situation.

Tom sat up too, wincing slightly at the pain the action brought, and turned to Voldemort.

"How long are we going to keep doing this?" He asked, and the other man's tapping ceased as he turned to face him.

"How long do you want to do this for?" Voldemort responded after a while, his eyebrow raised.

"I'm not entirely unhappy with the thought of continuing our affair for quite a while yet." Tom confessed, his brow furrowing.

"But what of our followers? Of Potter?"

"They'll accept whatever we tell them and if we decide to tell them nothing, then that is how it shall be. You desired Potter to begin with, is the same still true? For now he is nothing more than a pet, a war trophy. Easily disposed of, but I'm not against keeping him." The Dark Lord mused.

"I did desire him, but that flame has dulled quite a bit now that..." Tom started, "Now that I've discovered submission with you." He finished quietly.

Voldemort smiled uncharacteristically and ran a hand through Tom's messy hair, he leaned forward and kissed him chastely, allowing his hand to linger on Tom's head for a moment before resting it on his lap instead.

"Potter can be kept until you get bored of him, and I'll keep you in my bed until you're bored of me." The man told him, pulling the covers over their bodies at last, settling down to face the other as Tom mirrored his sleeping position.

"Thank you." Tom whispered into the darkness.

Voldemort's warm hands found Tom's cold ones and pulled him closer.

"It's fine, now sleep."

And sleep they did.

* * *

><p><strong>So what did you think? Good? Bad? Weird? Let me know :)<strong>

**Until next time, lovelies,**

**~Riddle**


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